


Au Revoir Mon Coeur

by comingbackhometoyou



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: 1940s france, Au Revoir Les Enfants Au, But a little different, M/M, Minor Character Death, Nazism, World War II, but they aren't really french, depictions of concentration camps, few homophobic slurs, history bitch, occupied france
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-08 17:58:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1950762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comingbackhometoyou/pseuds/comingbackhometoyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the height of World War Two looming in the background, 18 year old Louis Tomlinson departs from his home in Paris to Carmelite, a catholic boarding school, for his last year. He thinks it's just going to be another studious year with his best mate, Niall, but when he strikes up an intimate friendship with one of the new boys, a 16 year old Harry Styles, he learns a secret about the beautiful boy that if discovered, could have fatal effects for both of them, and the entire school.</p><p>Based on the incredible movie, Au Revoir Les Enfants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Carmelite

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been slowly in the works since May, and I never got around to writing it. But it's summer, and I'm done procrastinating.

_France, 1943_

 

The platform was long and narrow, infinitely stretching beyond the edges of the station. The grey coloring of the stone was a bleak reminder of the farewell that was about to come.

Boys of all ages piled around the heavy train, their shrill voices bouncing off the walls and straight into Louis' ears as they moved into the train cars.

He did not want to go.

Going back to Carmelite meant he would be away from his home, his friends, and his mother for the rest of the winter.

It wasn't like Louis was stupid. He knew why he and his best friend, Niall Horan, were being sent away. It was the dawn of one of the biggest threats to France in nearly thirty years. There was a war on, a disastrous timeline of events that pushed a foreign enemy into their country. German forces had overrun France, giving it it's occupied status. It was why his mother no longer felt it safe for him and his sisters to stay with her. She knew Father Paul kept a safe grounds at Carmelite, and did not hesitate to put Louis on the first train back.

He was eighteen now though, a legal adult. He could have said no and refused to leave. But he let his mother do this one last thing for him, because he knew she was only doing it out of love. Besides, it would only be his last year at the school; he could handle it.

Louis' feet hit the edge of the platform and he looked up at his mother, who had tears brimming at the corners of her pale eyes. "Go ahead love." She struggled to keep her voice intact. "It's only for a little while longer. And I'll come visit you both soon."

Her arms found their way around his neck, pulling him closer, as if she wasn't going to let go. Louis went stiff in her embrace, willing himself not to break down. He was a strong boy, one that didn't cry.

"I love you." He spoke, lifting his head from her chest, but not removing his arms from her waist. "Tell the girls that I'll be seeing them soon, yeah?"

His mother bent down slowly, planting a single kiss into his brunette hair. "Of course, my darling."

There was a faint sound coming from the cars that sounded like kissing noises, but Louis paid no mind to them. If the other boys wanted to tease him about saying goodbye to his mum, he'd let them. He was too much of a mum's boy to say anything in front of her.

He finally released his grip on his mum when he felt a warm clap on the back of his neck.

"C'mon mate, we're about to miss our train." A blond Irish boy spun him around, leaping forward through the doors.

Louis' mum shrieked in exasperation, "Niall Horan! You get back down here and give me a proper goodbye!" He did as he was told, hopping back down timidly and stumbling into her arms. "I very much raised you these past months so don't think you can just sneak on by."

"Alright, alright Ms. Tomlinson," Niall groaned as he pulled away. "See ya soon. C'mon Louis."

Louis gave one last look at his mum as Niall disappeared onto the train. Sighing, he grabbed his small leather suitcase in his hand, and mounted the car. The doors shut almost instantly behind him, and the final blow of the engine signaled that that was it. He shot a protective glance out the window to reassure his mother that he was okay, and gave her one last wave before the train began pulling out of the station.

He found Niall waiting in a nearby car, who was looking at him like Louis' world had just ended. "Y'alright, mate?"

Louis placed his luggage under his seat, pulling out a copy of _20,000 Leagues Under the Sea_. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just hard getting used to being there, then having to be carted off again is all."

Niall made a content hum, drumming against his leg, "Yeah. But we'll see 'em again soon. Holiday break and all that."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence as a few more boys piled in, some Louis knew, a few he'd never seen before. They looked a year or two younger than him, around Niall's age. He just gave them a polite smile, before continuing the sentence where he'd left off. His eyes never left the page until Niall spoke to one of the other boys.

"So, did you guys hear that Mr. Cowell is going to be taking over for Maths? Wicked. That's going to be a blow off class now." He grinned excitedly as the other boys commented on it too.

Louis just chuckled to himself. "Niall that was already a blow off class for you."

Niall just smiled and pinched the outside of Louis' leg, "Yeah, but now I won't get into trouble for doing it." He sighed with content when all the boys giggled to each other, even Louis.

The conversation led to other things, from cars, to family, to if any of them made it all the way with any girls during the break. Louis had clocked himself out of the conversation after that, the sound of the younger boys fading in the background as he tuned himself back into his book. It went on like that for the rest of the hour and a half ride.

X

  
The school was still the same old rustic beige color it was before. No changes; no hiding the obvious lack of cheer. It was a catholic school after all, run by a full body of older priests. The same large statue of the holy ghost greeted the students as they arrived at the front gate, and Louis couldn't help but roll his eyes at the thing. _Still here after all these years_. It was a bleak reminder of what they were coming back to. It signaled the start of a new year, and well, if the fathers find some parts chipped off, that’s really none of his business.

Father Simon, one of the younger fathers, led the large group of boys throughout the small archways in the courtyard and into a wide room, big enough to fit almost 3 tenants. _So new quarters this year_. There were dozens of disheveled beds, in three rows filling up the length of the room. There weren't many spaces in between the beds, but the boys know not to complain. Each boy was given a tiny cubby in the wall, which Louis thought was a step up from last year, when they were only given the spaces under their beds to use as storage.

Being the light hearted sneak that he was, claimed the bed in the first row, closest to the wall, before anyone was even given the chance to choose for themselves. Father Simon only shot Louis a stern look when he sprang onto his bed reminding him, “Tomlinson, we won’t expect anything malicious from you this year, will we?”

Louis heard Niall cackling somewhere in the background, and gave the Father his cutest pout he could manage, before breaking into a laughter will Niall. Composing himself, he raised his right hand, while he hid his crossed fingers behind his back, “Oui, mon père. I solemnly swear that I will stay out of trouble this year.” He glanced over at Niall giving him a wink, and Niall had to cover his mouth to stifle his giggles. It sent a small dose of pride throughout Louis; he loved being able to make Niall laugh like that.

There was a mumbled, “Yeah right” when Father Simon exited the room, to which Louis smiled. At least the teachers knew him well enough here that they didn’t fall for any of his lies anymore. There was one time in his first year, when he bleached a kid named Michael’s hair while he was asleep. He woke up in the morning and looked in the mirror, screeching in horror as his brown locks had changed into a golden blond. When the fathers looked into it, Louis had gotten so scared that he hid the alcohol he used under some poor sap’s bed. Father Paul had found the bottle the next day, and the kid had to stay and do hours after school each day for the rest of the year. Louis had felt like complete shit after that, and made sure that if he was going to pull something he fessed up to it afterwards; but it was never as bad a what he did to Michael.

Soon the room was piled with the teen boys, all pushing and shoving each other to get their beds. Niall immediately claimed the bed behind Louis’, as per Louis’ request, since Niall had the unholy characteristic of passing gas in his sleep. He’d rather not let that hit him head on.

Dragging his new suitcase onto the bed, he began taking out everything that wasn't a clothing item. He looked throughout all the things his mother packed him -his bible, a photo a him and his four sisters, jars of homemade strawberry jam, and other basic essentials.

He brought all of his things over to one of the cubbies, which would now be his. He set each item down carefully, and pulled his picture frame to the front of the cubicle. God he hated how much he missed them each year. He was a big influence on their life, and he gave almost every once of love he had in his heart to those four girls.

They were all so _young_. Too young to be growing up with another world war looming over their heads; though they were almost oblivious to exactly what was happening. Jay even made Louis promise that he would keep quiet about certain things, just to spare them the true horrors of what people were doing. He did his job no doubt, looking after the girls while Jay was away on business trips, hoping that they would be able to look back and say that they had some sort of childhood when it was all over. _If it will be all over._

Louis took another look at his homemade jam, silently thanking his mother for supplying him with them another year. It wasn’t so much something he ate, as it was his bartering tools he used with one of the cooks, who sold many things to the boys without the school knowing. Louis gave himself a mental note to visit Nick later and catch up with him; maybe he could barter his way into a new deck of cards or a few marbles.

“Hey Tommo!” Niall exclaimed, clapping him on the back. Louis turned his head slightly when Niall bent down to his ear, and in a quiet voice, he spoke, “Some of the other lads and me were thinking that after we get all unpacked we’d sneak down to the stream and have a good smoke. You in?”

Louis would love to, but in all honesty he didn't smoke. It just wasn't his thing. Niall had convinced him to try it a while back, but as soon as he took the first drag, he was suffocating. Niall just said it took more practice to get it right, but Louis hated the fiery feeling it left in his mouth, and it made him a little woozy. He finished the cigarette because he didn't want his best friend to think he was a wuss, but he made a deal with himself that he wouldn't take a drag of a cigarette again.

“Nah,” Louis explained. “But I’ll still go with you guys. The stream is nice this time of year. It hasn't frozen over yet.”

The Irish blond playfully punched his shoulder, “C’mon Louis. Stan has the good shit.” Louis only gave him an inquisitive look, barely batting an eyelash. “He swiped it from his mom’s stash, so it’s real expensive.”

Even though Niall could wiggle his eyebrows and jump around like a puppy, Louis still decided against it. He veered the conversation away from _him_ smoking, to smoking in general. “You do realize that it gives you bad breath? I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to walk around smelling like I just ate a plateful of garbage.”

“Why? Who you planning on kissing Louis? Oh wait, aren't you still getting it on with your pillow?”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. Funny.” Sometimes, Louis honestly wanted to strangle Niall. Friendship be damned. “I won’t smoke, but I will go with you even though you’re being a right knob, alright?”

“Fine. But I’m telling you….”

Niall stopped abruptly when the sound of multiple pairs of feet echoed through the hallway, becoming louder as they reached the room. Both boys turned around to see Father Paul, and three other boys, all dressed in the same navy colored jumper and beige shorts as everyone else.

There was an awkward silence that followed, as the whole exchange was rather…..weird, and Louis could only hold his tongue as the Father led each of them to a bed. They were obviously new, but he didn't know why the Father was escorting them in himself, or why they came in much later than everyone else.

Standing by his bed, he watched the three boys hovering around each other. They all looked about Louis age, and seemed just a tall as him. One had short blond hair and a tired smile, as he was placed in an empty bed in the back of the room. The second one looked older, with his golden brown hair that went down past his ears, and by the way he he kept throwing a protective glance over to the last boy; he knew they must know each other and were close. He was placed somewhere in the middle of the room. The last boy had something different about him though, whether it was the moonlit skin of his face, or the dark curls that nearly touched his shoulders. It was probably the way his piercing green eyes looked at him, and then down to the floor almost like he was scared, as he was given the empty bed right next to Louis’.

It was odd. No one had quite a reaction like that when entering the school before. Except for one kid who was frightened to death because his mother wasn't with him and people would pick on him a while back. _He probably just misses his mum. He’ll get over it._

Father Paul had given a brief nod to the room speaking only after everyone was settled, “Boys…. or I might as well call you what you really are, young men.”

As he spoke, Louis couldn't help but draw his eyes over to where the curly-haired boy was staring down at his lap. He couldn't have been older than 16, by the way his face was still showing hints of baby fat. There was just something different about his expression though. It was as if he was a deer that had just been sought out by a hunter, doe-eyed and waiting for the bullet. Louis found it very unsettling.

“The other fathers and I are very honored to have you all back this year,” the father had began again. “And do not forget that classes start tomorrow at 7:30. I will be seeing you all later on in service. Au revoir mes fils.”

Louis was grateful when his large stature had quickly retreated from the room, but there was still a heavy elephant discarded in the space, though he didn't understand why. He swore he could hear his lungs rising steadily as he glanced around to find the other boys checking out the new kids. It was all halted when another boy, Zayn, Louis remembered, had called out.

“So who does your hair then, new boy?” He nearly sounded threatening, his words aimed at the petit boy sat next to Louis. He stepped away from his bed, approaching him slowly.

The kid’s head shot up, his eyes leaving his lap to stare at Zayn for a moment, “Um,” his voice quivered. “My name’s Harry Styles.”

Louis was almost startled at how deep his voice was. This boy was definitely peculiar, with the way he talked almost morbidly slow, drawing out his words. He watched as Harry nervously held his hand out to the older boy looming over him.

“I didn't ask that,” Zayn spat back, smacking Harry’s hand away from him, receiving a round of laughter from the other boys around him.

Louis felt almost bad for the kid, but when he heard Niall erupt with his booming laughter, he couldn't help but giggle himself.

Zayn had turned away from him, and Harry shamefully rubbing his wrist and ducking his head back down into his lap. The room had settled down and back to normal after that, the tunes of the rest of the students milling about and getting the rest of their things in order. Louis tucked a few of his undergarments under his bed for later, noticing Harry on the other side of him. He just barely got his trunk open, a small one at that, and was shifting through a few books he piled on top of his clothes. Louis interest peaked at that, being the bookworm that he was.

This Harry kid looked like a whimp, but upon seeing his collection of books, against his better judgement, he placed himself at the edge of his bed, facing Harry. “Hi. I’m Louis.”

It was as if the boy was stuck in a trance, and Louis was the one to knock him out of it, quite literally. Before he knew what was happening, he heard a startled gasp, and watched as Harry nearly jumped out of his skin, spilling the contents of his luggage onto the floor at Louis’ feet.

“Oops,” Harry’s voice was higher than it was before. “I um, didn't mean for that to happen I’m sorry.”

 _Yawn_. Louis rolled his eyes at Harry when he bent down to retrieve his things, kicking his feet out from under them. He knew this guy was just a jittery whimp. “Right then. If you’re going to be a clumsy fool all the time then you can keep away from me.”

He heard Harry let out a little squeak as he rose back up. He carefully lifted his eyes to meet Louis’, and it sent something shooting down into the pit of his stomach. He didn’t understand what was behind his green pools, but there was something there, and it frightened him.

“Sorry,” was all Harry muttered as Louis sprang up from his bed, retreating away from the boy’s stare.

Louis only hoped that this weird, weird boy would keep to himself while he was here. He didn't think he could handle the odd feeling Harry gave him.

X

It was later on that day that he found Nicholas Grimshaw outside the kitchen, passing out what looked like dice to some of the younger students at the school, most likely in exchange for something not worth very much.

“Alright get out of here.” Louis heard Nick project to the tinier ones as he stumbled up the pathway towards his friend, his toothy grin wide for everyone to see.

“Hey Grimshaw! Another year, eh? What have you got for me tod..”

“Shut up, you idiot!” Nick cut off Louis words as he clamped his hand over his big fat mouth. “What if someone heard you? I could get fired.”

Louis grinned threw his hand, removing it only to laugh, “What do you mean what if someone heard me? Nick you trade with practically every student that goes to this school, and has ever gone to this school. If someone heard me they’d turn the other cheek because they probably trade with you.”

The kitchen help let out an exasperated sigh, playfully punching Louis in the shoulder, “You don’t get it you filthy wanker. If one of the fathers finds out, or god forbid if Ms. Flack finds out I’ve been…. embezzling from the kitchen. I don’t even want to think about what is going to happen. Father Paul I can handle, but that woman will skin me.”

Oh, the poor, poor Ms. Flack. She’d been working as the head cook at Carmelite for years now, and she was a tough old bird. She was widowed just a year after she got married, never had any kids. There were rumors that she used to be a professional dancer for the Paris Ballet, and that it was all thrown away when her entire family had been killed during an air raid during the Great War, over twenty years ago, but no one dares bring it up around her. If she yelled at you just for stepping one foot inside her kitchen, no one dreamed about what she would do if you brought up her personal life.

“Alright, alright Grimshaw,” Louis began. “Anyway how was your break? Ask any girls for their hand in marriage? You are like, thirty-something.”

Rolling his eyes, Nick placed his hands into his apron pockets, fiddling with a bit of fluff between his fingers. He really just wanted to smack Louis upside the head sometimes. “You’re such an idiot, Tomlinson. If you didn't bring me good the stuff, I probably would never talk to you.” He cleared his throat, “I just helped out my grand mum this summer. They still haven’t found my parents, and the old bag was willing to pay me to basically be her personal keeper.”

It was the depressing thoughts like that that made Louis inwardly cringe. He honestly hated that everyone had something bad to share. It just seemed that whoever you talked to could tell you about their missing parents, or their dead brother. He was just lucky that he didn't have to think like that. For now, at least.

“What about you then, Tommo? What did you do all summer long?”

Honestly, there really wasn't much to say. He didn't do anything remarkable. “Um, just hung around at home is all.” It was partly true, though he did remain at home most of the summer, a good portion of the time he just helped their maid with the house, and played dad with his sisters while his mother was away. But no one was ever interested in that story. To other people, it just made him look weak. He hated it, the fact that caring for your family as much as he did was used as an insult. It’s why he never brought it up around his friends.

“Anyway,” he moved his mind away from his deep thoughts, pulling out one of the jars of homemade strawberry jam he had so carefully hidden in his back pocket. “What do you think you can get me for one of these?”

There was a sly smile on his face, and Nick couldn’t help but shine down on him as he lifted the preserved jar from his hand. “Wow. This is amazing.” He took his time rolling it between his hands, examining the presence of the strawberries within it. Ever since the country had begun rationing food, there wasn’t much opportunity to find something that extravagant. “How on earth did you get your hands on this sort of thing? We aren’t allowed enough strawberries to make something like this.”

“Well maybe you aren’t,” cockiness rising in Louis’ voice. “But my mum doesn’t have any problem getting these things.”

“Well not all of us have the privileges you have Tomlinson. Not everybody is rich enough to afford more than what is rationed.”

“Sorry,” was all he quietly mumbled in return, a little put off by the stern tone in Nick’s voice. He sometimes forgets that some people didn’t have money like he did, and that it was actually a sore subject for some. He just needed to learn to control the pathway that went from his brain to his mouth, so he didn’t end up offending anyone on purpose.

Nick shot him a glance, shoving the jar of preserves into his apron pocket. “Look, if you just wait until after dinner tomorrow, I can get you something better from the kitchen. Ms. Flack is preparing something to welcome back everyone. Some sort of desert with a few extra things the school ordered for her. So, just wait until tomorrow, yeah?”

“Fine, but it better be good.”

“Alright kid, I think I see your friend Neil coming up the way. And I gotta get back to the kitchen to finish preparing tonight’s supper.”

Louis guffawed and spun around, still laughing when Niall approached his side. _I guess it’s about the right time for that smoke_.

“What’s so funny, Tommo?” He looked up at his friend, a confused look settling upon his features.

“Oh, nothing, Neil.”

X

There was just something Louis liked about the petit stream that ran throughout the woods behind the school that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Maybe it was the light-hearted sound of the water rushing over the rocks, or the sense of tranquility it gave him whenever he came out there alone. He remembered the first time he had stumbled upon it; after he had gotten teased his first year for nearly crying over a picture of his mum.

It gave him a sort of peace of mind. Whenever things were getting tense, and he just needed a place to calm down, think, or to read even, he found himself sitting down on the banks of the stream curled into himself with a book in hand. Niall had often questioned as to why Louis had always come down there, because all Niall seemed to think was that is was just water running through a trench created in the ground. He just didn’t get it.

A few of the other boys about his age were sat by one of the boulders perched at the edge of the water, Louis overlooking them as they dug out a few matches from their pockets. They lit their cigarettes with a swift flick of their wrists, inhaling the dark smoke into their lungs.

Niall gave him a look, silently asking him if he was sure he didn’t want one. Louis only shook his head in rejection, and Niall threw his arms out from his body, giving up with his stubborn friend. It only took a few seconds before the white smoke stick was launched into his mouth, and Louis almost felt sick watching Niall exhale the smoke near his face, taking in the putrid odor.

The other guys, Aiden, Olly, and Ashton, chuckled at his blatant discomfort around the smoke.

“Hey what’s wrong, Tomlinson?” Olly spoke as he released his drag, the grey air seeping from his lips. “You used to be cool.”

The others, including Niall gave a hearty chuckle, which only prompted Louis to sarcastically bite back, “And you used to have a brain, Murmaid. But I can see that’s gone too. Along with your lungs.” He could feel the irritation as it bounced off his tongue, “It’s a shame you’re going to die so young. You had so much potential.”

“You’ll be the one to die young if you don’t watch what you say, Tomlinson.”

He could just feel all the negative comments he wanted to make at this boy, and he would have shouted them all out, just to win a verbal confrontation even if it meant getting a few bashes to the head, if Niall hadn’t interrupted his mouth.

He pointed somewhere behind Louis’ shoulder, “Hey, ain’t those the new kids over there?”

They all filed around to peer at the boys, Louis noting how he could tell from where they were that one of them was definitely Harry; he could tell by his curls, and the other boy with brown hair, who he did not yet know the name of.

“Yeah, they’re a weird bunch for sure,” Ashton interjected, puffing out O-rings into the air above him. “Hey guys!” He cried out suddenly.

Aiden slid up next to him and pulled him from the rock, causing him to land on his bottom, “Are you crazy? They’ll hear you! We don’t want them over here. They’re freaks, Ash. Let em be freaky somewhere else.”

But it was too late for them to forget like they were ever there, what with Ashton signalling the boys to join them with his hands, after he whipped the dirt from his shorts.

“I was just thinking we could have a little fun with them is all,” Ashton pouted, barely stifling a mischievous giggle with Olly and Aiden when the newer boys had arrived before them.

“Hi,” the straight-haired one perked up, and Louis noticed a lighter tone to his voice, much higher pitched than Harry’s had been when he first heard him speak. “I’m Liam Payne, and this is my best friend Harry Styles.”

Harry was just as quiet as he was before, refusing to meet the gaze of any of the other five boys. A slight blush rose to his cheeks when Liam said his name, and Louis felt like he wanted to smack it off of him for some reason.

“Olly.” “Ashton.” “Niall.” “Aiden.” “Louis.”

They all took turns introducing themselves, though Louis did feel it was too repetitive for Harry, since he had so kindly introduced himself before. He should remember Louis, who was a very important person, most likely the most important one the poor sap was ever going to come in contact with is his entire life. One day when he’s older with kids, he’ll boast to them, “I went to school with Louis Tomlinson!” Because it’ll be the highlight of his life.

“D’you ever smoke before, young Harold?” Ashton called, taking one final drag from his nearly finished cigarette, then holding it out towards Harry.

“Not really.” His voice was nearly a whisper, but Louis heard it clear as day.

“Well go on then,” Olly shouted from behind Ashton, who still held out his arm in front of Harry. “Don’t be a girl, Styles.”

Harry shot Liam a worried look, as if asking, “Is this okay?” He received a vague nod from his friend, reaching his hand out to clasp the tiny bud of the cigarette.

Louis and the other guys stood back and watched as Harry brought the white roll of burning paper to his mouth. Louis watched curiously as his plump pink lips formed themselves around the edge of the cigarette, his breathe slowly wavering when the smoke finally entered his body.

Smoking for the first time is always bad, because you almost always hold in the smoke for too long, and end up coughing and or vomiting a little. And a younger guy like Harry, well Louis knew he wouldn’t be able to handle it for long. _This isn’t going to be good._

Harry’s face had turned a light shade of pink, the smoke traveling into his lungs.

“Keep holding it in!” Aiden cheered on. “You’re going to be a man now, Styles!”

His eyes began to water, while his throat was burning from the pressure of the smoke when Liam turned to him, “Harry you can let it out now.”

“He’s fine!” Olly popped up, slapping him on the back roughly, causing Harry to accidentally swallow some of the smoke as he was releasing it. “Don’t be a girl, young Styles!”

The heat from the smoke itched the inside of his chest as he clutched his mouth, sputtering noises exiting him as he tried to expel the rest of the foreign entities from his lungs. It was burning inside him, clawing it’s way out of his mouth when he felt his remnants of his lunch spill from his stomach to the ground. Liam was there in an instant, and whatever was left of the cigarette was long forgotten as he coughed up excess bile and spit it out.

Vicious laughter had turned into gasps and disgusted noises as the other boys stopped out their cigarettes and darted away from the mess. Though Louis didn’t have the heart to laugh at the poor kid, he didn’t feel up to helping him either. _It’s his own damn fault. He should have known what he was getting himself into._

“Styles has got no style!” Aiden cried, kicking a pile of leaves into Harry’s face.

“C’mon, Aiden. Don’t be such a dick,” Niall was trying to be serious, but it ended up coming out like a joke. “Oh who am I kidding, you’re always a dick.”

The two led the way up the path away from the stream, Olly behind him with Ashton in tow, Louis following last, sneaking one last look at Harry still hacking into his hands. He rolled his eyes and scurried after the others.

X

_Another sound of cracking glass shattered behind his ears. There were eerie shots of god knows what whistling through the air._

_“The Germans have taken over the entire city of Paris. No one is safe. Bombs are being dropped all over the city. If you can hear me….” The radio broadcaster had slowly faded out, static weaving itself between his words. “Get…” bbbsshhzzzz. “Underground.” bbbsshhzzzz._

_And that was it. The entire broadcast had cut out._

_His heart had lodged itself in his throat, as the rattling walls of the bomb shelter cried out. He looked at his sisters one last time, tears streaming down their faces, before he turned and faced his mum._

_“My son, I just wanted to let you know, one last time that I lo-”_

_An eruption rang out, and the intense heat and bright light faded everything to white._

Louis woke up in a cold sweat. His hand clutched his chest through his dense shirt, his nails digging into the skin right above his heart, so deep he could feel stinging.

The eighteen year old’s breath caught in his throat as he surveyed the dark remnants of the hall. Louis’ heart incessantly radiated in his chest, and though he tried to steady his breathing, the beating ran on, as if an entire swarm of butterflies had been released inside of him.

He looked around one more time, making complete sure no one had heard him.

That was a new one. He thought. It was almost as violent as the one he’d had a couple of weeks ago at home.

Louis couldn’t remember when they started. It was sometime at the end of last year before they were sent home, right after a deadly air raid had propelled them deep in the underground shelters of the school. No one was hurt, of course, but it was terrifying because it was the first time Louis had experienced a shortcoming of the war. He couldn’t stop thinking about if it had happened to his home, to his friends or loved ones. He woke up many nights with the thoughts actually taking dream occurrences, but he never told anyone. Not even his mum.

At the sight of the early morning sun illuminating various parts of the hall, he figured it was nearly time to wake up. He scrubbed a lazy hand over his face before laying back down in his mussed bunk. He closed his eyes and pulled his wool blanket up to his shoulders. He did not want to get up this early.

Going back to class excited Louis more than he let on to anyone. This boy, unlike everyone else, had actually liked learning, and he couldn’t wait to get to English literature, so he could show off his advance reading skills to everyone. The only thing he didn’t like though, was the fact that they were set to wake up at six o’clock sharp every morning.

It was only a few short minutes before he got out of bed groggily when one of the fathers flipped the light switch on, calling out for them to wake up. He was met by the sounds of groans and curses from the boys who were nearly dead to the world.

He hastily removed his grey cotton t-shirt and his night shorts, folding them neatly and placing them under his bed, setting them to be used again that night. Louis didn’t really like having to wear clothes night after night, but with water having to be used for more important resources, he had to cope. He was thankful that they did clean their clothes once a week at least, along with showering at a nearby bathhouse in town.

The rest of the morning went by swiftly as he washed up in the bathrooms, then seated himself down in the dining hall for a hearty breakfast of oats. _Yum._

Louis found himself at his desk in English Lit. a couple of minutes before the bell rang, right in the front row, where he normally like to be; better to fully comprehend the lesson, he found.

There was a little squabble before Father Christian entered the room, but Louis didn’t pay much attention to it. He only looked up when he heard the gruff voice of Olly as he told none other than _Harry_ that he was so conveniently sitting in his seat.

Harry had quickly and obediently done what he was told, grabbing his notebook and sliding out from his desk, not saying a word in fear that they would pick on him more.

“Hairball likes to take things that don’t belong to him I see.” Olly announced to the class, a fit of giggles erupting from the other boys around him.

Liam had jumped up to his defense when Harry scampered to the back of the room with his head down low, “Hey, leave him alone.”

“Be quiet, Llama.”

“My name is Liam.”

“Learn how to take a joke Leo.”

“Oh fuck off Olly.” Louis croaked out, exasperatingly letting out a sigh as he looked at him. He just wanted them to shut up so he could have a better day than he already was. If they weren't quiet, he would stab his hand with his pencil. “You don’t have to be an asshole to everyone you know. Besides you guys are making me want to kill myself, and it’s only the first day.”

He only scoffed, “Geez Tomlinson, what bug crawled up your ass?”

Louis was about to interject, but the sound of the classroom door opening brought his words to a halt. Father Christian fell into the room with an easy step as he rolled up the sleeves of his black robe. Louis shot a quick glance at the back of the room where Harry had found an empty desk, though he didn’t know why. Harry only looked at him with solemn eyes, then moved them away to face the father.

_Well then. He could have at least been appreciative of me for sticking my neck out for him a little bit._

“Bonjour les élèves.” He recited.

He was greeted with the voices of the boys, “Bonjour mon père.”

This was going to be good. He couldn’t wait to hear about what they were going to be divulging into. This was his favorite class, after all; he was always in the top spot every year.

“I know you are all very excited to start this new school year, and we have many classics that we are going to be covering this semester,” Father Christian began. “Now has anyone read the novel, _The Sorrows of Young Werther?_ ”

 _What kind of a name for a novel is that?_ Louis had never heard of that book at all, and that was disheartening, considering his father’s library was lined with books, wall to wall and floor to ceiling. He spent most of his free time in the sea of stories; he knew almost every book his father owned, and he’d never come across that novel before. He was almost embarrassed for himself.

It seemed that no one else had heard of the book either, by the bored looks shared around the room.

“Is that the one where the main character stays in the town and falls into a love triangle with a woman and her betrothed?” Harry’s voice was low, his words parting the the silence in the room.

Father Christian’s face broke into a wide grin, “Why yes, Mr. Styles. That’s right.”

Half the class was now looking at him, including Louis. _How does he know this book and I don’t?_

Harry’s gaze traveled over the other students in front of him, landing on the father. He felt a bit proud of himself for having read the novel, while none of the other students had even heard of it, “I read it a few years ago, in grade eight. It was lovely.”

_Lovely. Ugh._

“It seems a bit mature for that kind of audience. But, tell me, what did you think of it?” the father asked. “Maybe your review of it will help your classmates be more interested in it.”

“Um,” Harry began, Louis noting that he seemed to say that when he hadn’t collected his thoughts yet. “I thought it was quite brilliant, to be honest. Um, I’ve never read a book in the style of written letters over a period of time before.”

It was the longest Harry had ever talked in front of his classmates before, and he was scared that any minute someone would interrupt just to make fun of him.

The father prompted him to continue with his hand, and his eyes actually lit up as he spoke, “I think the author did an amazing job of sculpting the persona of each character. You can really see them as real people, not just fiction. And, without giving too much away, I think the way he used the archetype of the love triangle helped push the characters into seeing who they really were, as opposed to the fallacies they had created for themselves. Um…. I don’t really remember much more of it.”

The room was silent, and Harry could feel the judging faces of his peers. It made him a little insecure, and he bowed his head, waiting for a snarky remark from Olly or Aiden.

Louis just sat in awe of what the boy had just released from his mouth. Never in a million years would he had pegged that boy to have an advanced English diction, or to have a brain for that matter. He examined Harry’s eyes as they sunk back into his head, and internally scoffed. _Still not as good as me, the star pupil._

The father clapped his hands together, still smiling at Harry, “Incredible, Mr. Styles. I wholeheartedly agree with you. I can’t wait to hear more of what you have to say about the other works, as well.”

Harry beamed up at him, “Merci, mon père.”

“And, with an extensive vocabulary like that, you’ll sure give Mr. Tomlinson a run for his money when fall terms roll around,” he said, directing his pointer finger at Louis.

Louis highly doubted that. He was raised on fine culture, while Harry Styles looked like he didn’t even know the definition of the word class. It wasn’t ever a competition between he and his classmates, because they really didn’t stand a fair chance against him. There was no way Harry was going to push him out of the position of top student in that class. Or any class, for that matter.

This time, Louis let the entire class hear his cocky chuckle, “Sure.”


	2. The Air Raid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long to get out. Writer's block sucks. But I'm back on the board and I promise I'll get my chapters out sooner. Please give me your feedback. I really need it to continue.
> 
> Tw for small mentions of blood and claustrophobia.

The first week of school went off better than Louis expected. He thought that he would have to up his game in classes, to make sure Harry stayed in his place, but the pale boy had already seemed to learn where he stood. But it wasn’t Louis’ fault. He didn’t even say anything to Harry, it was mostly the other boys that hung around with Olly and Aiden that did most of the diminishing of the boy’s spirit.

Harry had sunken into his shell more -if that was even possible- after the other guys had begun to pick on him all the time. He didn’t speak out in English Lit. since the first day, which Louis was partially grateful for. Though he never spoke up in any other class either, and always chose the farthest seat in the room from the teacher.

In fact, Louis couldn’t remember Harry uttering a single word after that morning. It was probably just his personality, being shy and reserved around people he didn’t know. Maybe that was why he was only seen hanging around his friend Liam, or the other new kid, who he didn’t recall the name of.

It was embarrassing really, how much Louis was getting hung up on this kid. There was just something…. _off_ about him. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, and he wasn’t about to find out. Harry Styles put a weird feeling in his stomach, and not in a good way.

Anyway, he didn’t even have time to worry about Harry. There were way more important things he needed to focus on, such as the keys that were laid about in front of him, dancing recklessly beneath his fingers as they laughed at his terrible abilities for yet another year.

One last year at making a fool of himself while sat at the school’s minuscule black piano, which had collected so much dust and cobwebs over the break that it had been tinted a nice shade of umber. He was trying to play some basic children’s lullaby, but because he was shit at every instrument ever handed to him, it sounded more broken than the vase he broke at home last year. He didn’t understand why the school had him keep on with the private piano sessions, because both he, and his lovely teacher, Mrs.Smith, knew how horrendous he was at it. He was much better at singing if he did say so himself.

But, Mrs.Smith was patient with him, which he was thankful for. Louis wouldn’t have been able to suffer through years of piano lessons if his teacher was one that crawled under his skin; like many seemed to do.

Mrs.Smith was the only female teacher at the school. This was partially because she had given herself over to the catholic church, but it was mostly because she was the daughter of one of the wealthiest funders of the school, and she was given an easy job in return. She only came down to Carmelite a few times a week, only because she only helped with piano lessons and choir rehearsals.

Even though Louis had the worst sense with girls, he found her very stunning. She was young, early twenties, and her round face and brunette hair that swept past her chest were beautiful, but it was the gracefulness and fluidity at which her arms moved about herself that really made her an artwork. He was far from having a crush on her, but he appreciated her aesthetic. _That Liam kid, on the other hand….._ He’d seen the other boy’s head spin right around his body, and could almost see the drool fall out of his mouth when he took one look at her.

Focusing back at the task at hand, Louis splayed his fingers over the keys, pressing them down, a godawful note erupting from the piano. _Fuck_. Nope, his skills had not bettered at all over the summer.

“Okay Louis, I think that’s enough for today,” Ms. Smith cringed, gently placing her dainty hands over his own and removing them from the keys. “Well, I see we have… some things to work on. No worries. At least this is sounding much better than when you tried playing ‘Ode to Joy’ last year. I can see you’ve made some improvements.”

Louis sighed, wishing he could fling himself out the window, so he wouldn’t have to face this much embarrassment. He could tell by the tone of his teacher’s voice, and the way she never made eye contact with him, that she was lying to him. But, she did so in a way not to hurt his feelings or let him know that he truly was shit at the piano. He was somewhat grateful.

“I just don’t understand why they keep trying to get me to play the piano,” he admitted. “We all know I’m not very good, yet….”

“Nonsense Louis!” Ms. Smith ejected. “You should know that when I was your age I was terrible at the piano. I thought I would never be as good as I am now.”

 _Yeah, but we’re different,_ he thought. She had a natural talent for the piano, whereas Louis excelled better in just about everything else.

Ms. Smith finally stood up from her seat, lowering her head to meet Louis’ sight, “Everyone knew I wasn’t good, but my father still made me take piano lessons twice a week.” Louis stared up at her with a semi-confused look on her face, unsure of where she was going with her story.

“My point is Louis, I never would have gotten to where I am now if I hadn’t been forced into those lessons. I practiced, and practiced,” she sighed once more, closing her light brown eyes, deep in thought about the boy before her. “If they keep pushing you to take these lessons Louis, it means they think you have the potential. And you don’t want to waste it, right?”

Louis huffed out of breathe he didn’t know he was holding. She was right, in some sense. Though he couldn’t see this “potential” he had that others seemed to, he didn’t want to throw whatever he could have away. If they kept him coming back every year was because they could see something he didn’t, he would slowly keep at it. He just hoped that whoever was in the near vicinity that he was would keep an extra pair of earplugs handy.

He picked up his music sheet from the black and white death trap and brushed his fringe out of his eyes. He prepared to exit the room as Ms.Smith called out to him from the other side, where Louis saw she had pulled out a long white cigarette. _Huh. I didn’t know she smoked._

“Louis can you tell the last student I’ll be with him in a moment, please?” She asked, lighting the stick and promptly exhaling puffs of grey smoke from her mouth.

He nodded slightly as he grasped the door handle, tugging the glass door open just enough for him to slip out. His eyes scanned over the halls outside, before landing on a familiar green pair jogging up to him. His curls bounced as he came up in his navy blue jumper, and Louis almost wanted to laugh at how querky he looked. He could see he was also holding a music sheet booklet.

“Is this Ms.Smith’s room?” Harry mumbled in his direction, a touch pink around his cheeks and clearly out of breath from running to find the classroom. Louis wanted to laugh because he could have just walked, since she was going to make him wait anyway.

He held his tongue though, seeing as this was the first time he heard Harry speak in almost a week. “Yeah this is her room,” Louis let him know. “But she’s taking a little break for herself at the moment, and asked for you to wait out here for her.”

The pink shade had carefully left Harry’s face when he spoke again, “Oh, okay. Um… thanks Louis.”

Louis’ right hand suddenly came out from his side to reach out to scratch an itch on his other arm that had begun to fester when Harry sad his name. It shouldn’t have been anything really, but it felt weird at the sound of it. They didn’t know each other at all, and Louis felt a little precautious that Harry had used it.

“What have you prepared to play for her today?” Louis said, despite himself. He really should have just left the boy where he was, but his curiosity got the better of him when he took another look at the pile of music in his hands.

Harry’s eyes had a little glint in them when Louis had done more than just walk away like he thought he would. To keep whatever authority he had over the boy, Louis reached out without permission and snagged the music from his chest. Harry didn’t seem to protest as Louis’ fingers flipped through the booklet. He glanced at the clusters of notes on the pages before slamming it closed. He took one look at the title, _O Sacred Heart._ It was one of the shortest of the catholic hymns, but from what he could tell, it was one of the most difficult ones to play on the piano.

There was no way Harry was good enough to play the piece. Only professionals could, and he didn’t really think Harry was pro.

Louis handed the book back to the curly-haired boy, who was quick to grab it and hold it back to his chest. The classroom door opened a second later, and they both could smell the toxic smell of nicotine spewing from Ms.Smith when she let Harry into the room.

Harry gave Louis a shy smile, well it wasn’t even a smile really, just a slight curvature of the ends of his lips. He followed Ms.Smith into the room as Louis scoffed out a, “Good luck.”

As soon as the door was closed, Harry perched the music on top of the piano, nodding to Ms.Smith quickly before he sat himself down at the bench. Louis knew he should have just walked away from the door, but his curiosity got the better of him yet again, so he watched silently as Harry's hands found their way onto the keys. As soon as the first series of notes sang throughout the room, Louis was in awe.

It was clean, and the song flowed smoothly, just how it was written on the paper. There were no pauses between notes, like Louis was known to do, and there were no missed or incorrect keys hit. It was utterly magnificent, to put simply, and Louis couldn't help but feel a large amount of jealousy as he watched Harry beautifully deliver the hymn.

Of course he's perfect at the piano. Of course.

There he was, this multitalented, green eyed wonder boy. He was no more than 16, and he could already play songs at a professional level. How many years of lessons did he have? He wondered. Louis had had so many years already behind his belt, and nothing had come of it. But this guy was already perfect. Harry was younger than he, and was already a million times better than Louis could ever hope to be, which irked him a bit. Okay, it irked him a lot.

Is there anything he isn't good at? And then he chuckled at the thought of him being terrible at talking to people, so Louis considered that a win for himself.

As quickly as the song began, it was finished, and Louis could hear Ms.Smith clapping hysterically through the door. "Brilliant, Mr.Styles! Absolutely brilliant!"

Louis scoffed internally, backing away from the door before he could get caught listening in on his lesson. That and he didn't really want to listen to Harry getting annoying praises for his superb skills.

X

  
By the time lunch rolled around, Louis was just excited that he got to eat at least one jar of his mothers strawberry preserves. He had traded with Nick the week previous for some extra of the dinner and dessert they were fed that day, which Louis felt extremely grateful for, because it was one of the more tastier meals they were served.

But now he could use some of strawberry jam, which he had been slowly waiting for. He knew he had to moderate the delicious food, which would be hard since there were certain rules students had to follow when they were given food from home. Everyone who had brought anything from home was strongly encouraged to share with the other boys, though it was a recommendation, the fathers treated as a rule, because if you didn't pass it around, they would seize it and give everyone some but you.

So, not wanting to get it confiscated, he passed the jar around to everyone at the long table he was sitting at. He was lucky that whoever took some of the preserves knew how to ration, because by the time it made its way back to him, there was just about half of it left.

Their lunch was a simple one, pork slices with some mashed potatoes and fresh rolls. Well, if you call a few days old fresh. But hey, no one was up for complaining, except Olly, it seemed.

"I'm telling you guys," Olly boasted allowed, catching the attention of nearly all the boys at their table when he was passed the large bowl of pork. "My father wouldn't stand for this type of garbage to be served. The school honestly needs to get some better food before they gets us all killed from food poisoning."

Louis was mere seconds away from telling Olly to shut his fat gob, but he held it in. He considered Olly a friend, and he wasn't that bad a guy, but sometimes, he just needed a slap across the head. Honestly, where they stood in the world, they had no right to complain about what they were receiving. It was a blessing they were receiving anything at all, and Louis knew not to take anything for granted.

He had heard the stories. He knew what was going on behind the war. He knew that anyone with connections to the Jewish religion were being shipped off to working camps. They were worked, beaten, and badly fed. He even heard of some of the darker camps, like Auschwitz, which had been murdering people on the spot.

So, he was grateful for whatever was offered to him, because Jay taught him that he could have it a lot worse.

Louis didn't really bring on conversations during meals, somewhat because he liked the savor his food in peace, but also because he just didn't have anything to say to anyone else. Niall always sat right beside him though, cracking jokes with the other boys around him. Today he was talking with Zayn, Olly, and the other new kid, which he learned his name was Luke.

Luke was nice, it seemed, as Louis listened to him and Niall talk back and forth to each other. He also, well, actually talked to people. He assumed Luke would be like Liam or Harry, but he was pleasantly surprised when a lighthearted giggle escaped Luke's throat.

He found out that Luke used to live in Berlin, but moved to Lyon when he was about four years old, and eventually his family moved to Paris when he was ten.

“So, did you know any Nazis?” Niall questioned, which Louis thought was stupid, because he would have been too young to remember any German forces.

Luke coughed into his closed fist, visibly uncomfortable with the question, “No. I was just born there and we really didn’t stay for very long after that.”

“I bet you have some family there that are part of the Nazi regime. Do you think they know Hitler?”

“No,” Luke let out coldly, ending the Nazi conversation.

Niall moved onto some other topic about girls, and Louis just laughed along with them at whatever they were saying, taking a hold of the bowl that Aiden had passed from the other side of him. His nose was met with the mouth watering scent of the meat, and he easily pulled out a slice and plopped it down on his plate. There were two more pieces left, Louis noted, as he carried on and pushed the bowl in Niall's direction. His friend took no time at all to grab at the warm pork slice.

If there was thing Louis knew for certain about Niall, is that he was a pig, no pun intended. The boy could eat and eat, fill up his plate again, then clean it off without leaving so much as a crumb. His best friend was basically just a giant black hole, because no matter how much Niall could put in his stomach, it never seemed to go anywhere. It was fairly impressive, if Louis did say so himself.

Niall passed the bowl down to Harry, who was seated next to him, quietly, of course. Louis didn’t mean to, but he found himself watching Harry as he lifted the bowl close to his nose. He was taking in the smell of the food for some odd reason. Harry’s nose scrunched up at the aroma, and he quickly looked around the table.

“Does anyone want this piece?” He asked no one in particular, speaking more to himself than anyone else. Niall’s ears perked up at the opportunity for more food, which Louis figured would happen.

“Hell yeah, mate. I can take it off your hands,” Niall spoke. “What’s the matter, you don’t like pork?”

“Um…. I’m just not very hungry right now,” Harry commented, curling a little bit into his protective shell, which struck Louis as odd. Afterall, it was just food.

Niall excitedly plucked the last piece out of the bowl and filled his mouth with the end of it. As soon as the skin broke underneath his teeth, he moaned a “thank you” to Harry, and continued to shove as much of it into his mouth as possible.

Louis should have been disgusted at the sight of Niall nearly choking himself, but he was quite used to it already, eating with him plenty of times over the years. He broke out into a laugh, dropping a whole load of mashed potatoes onto his plate. He took no time digging his fork into the steaming mash, lifting the food to his waiting mouth. The first bite was utterly fantastic, as was the second and third, and so on.

Louis was momentarily brought out of his food trance when he heard Olly gruntle, “Hey, Styles.”

He caught Harry’s attention, who looked over at him not in a slight panic, like he had done earlier in the week, but more of a face that told Olly that he was really annoyed.

“What?”

“I was just thinking, since you’re not very hungry, you would be up for sharing with some of us that actually are,” it wasn’t even a question, it was a demand. Olly didn’t even let Harry get a word out before his hand shot out and claimed the only roll he had on his plate. Now he was only left with a few spoonfuls of potatoes.

Harry let out a defeated sigh, “I guess.”

“Mate,” Niall protested. “Don’t be such a dick all the time, it’s getting annoying.”

Olly rolled his eyes, “Look Horan, I’m just letting little Harry know that anytime he doesn’t feel hungry, he can share with me. Ain’t that right, Hairball?”

“Sure,” was all Harry said, looking between the two, scared to say anything else that would get him picked on even more.

X

He was asleep. Of course he was asleep. He said he was going to officially blow this class over because Father Simon was teaching it, but he never thought that the Father would just sit at his desk and leave him to it. It was insane.

Drool was slowly sliding from Niall’s mouth down his chin, and it took a lot of self control for Louis not to stare at him. They were at the front of the room for pete’s sake, and Niall was there, softly snoring the world away. Louis knew the lesson was a boring one, over factoring and using the quadratic formula, but he didn’t think it was so dull that it would put him to sleep.

“The first step is to determine which variables represent A and B…” Harry’s slow drawl echoed in Louis’ ears before he zoned out again. Father Simon had asked for a volunteer to step up to the board to demonstrate how the quadratic formula was used in an equation, and Harry had all but flung himself at the front of the room. He quickly picked up a piece of chalk and began scribbling down numbers on the chalkboard in a hasty fashion, like he was really getting into it.

As Louis listened on to Harry’s teachings, he could understand how Niall was already fast asleep. Even though Harry’s voice was deeper than his, it had a soft tone to it, and he could feel it begin to lull him to sleep.

“And then you take the A variable and place it in the numerator….”

Louis zoned out again when he glanced back over at Niall, who had a wad of saliva dangling from his chin. He snuck a look over at Father Simon, who was fully invested in what Harry was doing to notice him and Niall.

“So then you multiply two times B….”

Louis dropped his eyes to Niall’s pencil, which laid across his desk, unused. He made a quick grab for it undetected from Niall, and faintly brought the erasured end to his friends mouth. He had to be sneaky and quiet if he was going to get it in his mouth without Father Simon noticing, or Niall waking up. He took another look at the Father before tipping the pencil back and pushing it into his open mouth. Louis let the erasure nestle on the side of Niall’s tongue, and quickly tore a small strip of paper from his journal. He softly placed the paper onto his chin, the saliva keeping it firmly in place.

“And once you’ve done all that, you get your answer,” Harry turned away from the board, smiling wide at Father Simon. “It’s quite simple once you get the hang of it.”

“Very well done Mr.Styles!” Father Simon’s pitch radiated in Louis’ ears, effectively focusing his attention away from the irish boy.

“Some of you need to take the leap and show your abilities to the rest of the class, like Mr.Styles here. He’ll have no trouble passing his exams, unlike some of you…” The Father said, his sight landing on Naill.

“Now, Mr. Tomlinson,” he sighed. “I thought we said no more shenanigans this year, hmm?”

“It’s not my fault Nailler fell asleep. It’s Harry’s fault for having such a smooth and relaxing voice,” Louis snapped his mouth shut, hoping no one was paying attention to what he had just said. He had no idea where that came from, but coming from him it sounded very weird, and he didn’t want Harry to know that it was one of the distinct things Louis noticed about him. “I just mean, it put Niall right to sleep, so,” he tried to cover how bad that sounded with a cough.

A slight pink blush crept up the sides of Harry’s face, but Father Simon quickly dismissed him back to his seat before Louis could notice.

“Well if Mr.Horan wants to sleep in this class I’m not going to stop him,” he began. “He’s only goiNG TO FAIL MY CLASS.” His words became louder as the sentence went along.

Niall’s eyes sprang open at the shout, and he nearly choked on the pencil that still rested in his mouth.

“What… what??!” he pulled the spit coated yellow stick from his mouth. “What did I do??”

A herd of laughter erupted from the rest of the boys in the room, causing Niall’s eyes to go wide in confusion.

“You’ve got a little something on your face,” Louis gestured to his chin.

Niall could feel the sticky saliva stuck on his chin, and his fingers found the tiny piece of paper Louis had put there previously. He ripped it off in one sweeping motion, ducking his head down in embarrassment to wipe the drool away.

“Louis Tomlinson, I hate you!” And in an instant, Niall launched himself at Louis, doing a great job at knocking his butt onto the floor.

As soon as he hit the ground, Louis could hear all the other boys hooting and cheering for Niall, laughing when he made a move to get back into his chair. Everyone knew Niall wasn’t serious though. They were best friends, and besides, Louis pulled pranks on Niall all the time, and Niall was never truly mad at him for it. Even if he was, it never lasted longer than a few minutes at most.

Harry stood up from the back of the room in concern, before sitting back down when Father Simon tried to settle everyone down.

“Alright, alright. That’s enough all of you,” the Father said as he moved back to the seat behind his desk. “Louis, please stop mucking about.” He then looked directly at Niall, “And as for you Mr.Horan, I highly suggest you pay attention this year. I really don’t want to fail you again in another class, and then have you again next year. I don’t think my health can take it.”

Niall sunk down into his chair, humiliation falling over him once more. Louis chuckled again, which won him an elbow in the ribs.

“Okay, now that we’ve gone over the quadratic formula, let’s talk about facto…”

The Father dropped his words breathlessly when an earsplitting ring drowned out the sounds of the classroom. All of the boy’s hands shot up to cover their ears, but they didn’t miss a beat when Father Simon had ordered them out of the room.

This was just another siren that had been sounded, alerting the nearby towns of an air raid warning. Ever since France had been occupied, there had been a few air raids here and there. They had happened only to a few places in the east, mainly in places that had no inhabitants, thankfully. But now, warnings were more and more common, even if a raid wasn’t about to take place. They were just extra precautions the French government had placed to make sure their people were okay.

Louis hated the sirens. A lot. They were loud and piercing, and every time there was one he felt like his ears were bleeding.

He also felt so scared anytime they went off. The possibility that a bomb could drop down on the school at any moment wasn’t a good one. Most students would love the thought, because it would mean no school. Louis knew those that thought like that didn’t know about that costs that would come with it, though.

Father Simon told them to bring their math books, because no matter what was going on, they were always going to finish their work. “War or not, you are going to receive an education,” Father Paul had once told them.

Holding their supplies, the Fathers led the boys through the back of the school, and into the school’s underground bomb shelter. It wasn’t anything big, and it could barely fit the one hundred plus boys and the seven fathers that were there. Space wise, they were all cramped together, shoulder to shoulder. Louis didn’t mind, as long as they were fully protected, which they were.

No one really knew it, but small spaces made Louis anxious. He figured out he had claustrophobia a few years ago, but he didn’t think it was important enough to let anyone know. It was just something he knew he would have to get over sooner or later.

Normally in these situations he would have Niall right beside him, which helped him get through it. Niall was his rock, and always kept him grounded. Unfortunately, he lost Niall in the commotion of all the students, and he turned to see Harry on his right, squishing Louis into the corner of the shelter. It would have been okay if Niall was in eyesight, but Louis couldn’t find him at all in the room he was in. He was in a completely different room of the bomb shelter. _Great._

Once all the boys were in and the doors had been sealed shut, Father Simon explained to the class that while they were stuck there that he wanted them to go over factoring by themselves in their books. He then moved to the other rooms, restating what he said to the other students from his class that were dislodged somewhere else.

As soon as Father Simon left the room, Louis shut his eyes and promptly leaned his head against the wooden wall. He let out a shaky breath, but quickly began practicing his ventilation techniques to calm his down.

Harry saw that Louis looked distressed, but he didn’t know if it was his place to ask him about it. His own caring nature got the better of him anyway, and he angled over Louis as best as he could, given their cramped situation.

“Hey,” Harry let out in nothing but a whisper, startling him a bit. “Are you okay, Louis?”

Louis spun his head slightly, the slit of his right eye opening to peer at Harry, “Yeah, I’m fine.” As if he was going to tell the truth to Harry, they aren’t friends in the slightest.

“Oh, I’m sorry. You just look…”

“How do I look?”

“I don’t know,” he spoke, even softer than before, like he genuinely cared if Louis was upset. It unnerved him. “You just looked like you were going to throw up or something.”

That made Louis snort for some odd reason. It wasn’t that he was about to throw up, it was that he felt like his brain and his chest were being compressed into jelly.

“I just don’t like,” Louis waved his hand around, gesturing to the room. "All of this. It makes me nervous." Louis shut his eye, trying to wrap his head around why he would tell this to Harry of all people.

"I understand," his voice was still low, even if all the other boys were lost in their own worlds of not working on the assignment, and paid them no attention. Louis welcomed it anyway, finding it oddly soothing for him at the moment. It was something relaxing to focus on instead of the tight space.

He was pleased that Harry continued, "The thought of bombs coming down at any moment scares me too."

Louis only nodded his head in agreement.

"Believe it or not this is my first one."

Louis' eyes shot open at that, his dilated pupils landing on Harry's faux-grin face, "You seem calm for your first time. People are normally scared shitless during an air raid, especially if they've never been in one before."

"I've been through worse if you can believe it," he spoke so quiet that Louis almost missed it.

There was something about the tone he spoke in that made Louis internally cringe. _What has this kid been through that was worse than an air bombing?_ Louis didn't know if he wanted to find out just yet, or if he should continue, so he just sighed in agreement.

He thought Harry had finished talking, but when the green eyed boy leaned back over to him, his nerves started to fall away again.

“How long do these usually last?”

“We’re in here anywhere from thirty minutes to a couple hours,” Louis said, scratching at his arm incessantly. “That’s why they make us bring our work. Have to kill time somehow, right? But I normally just read something without them knowing.”

Harry let out a giggle, and Louis didn’t mind it as much as he would have a week ago. He liked when he made people laugh, even if it was an odd person like Harry Styles. It just made Louis feel good about himself in ways others didn’t understand.

“What’s your favorite book?” Harry couldn’t help but ask him.

“ _20,000 Leagues Under the Sea_ ,” Louis replied easily, wondering why on earth he had voluntarily shared information about himself with Harry. He wouldn’t of done it when he first met him, but yet he continued, “I’ve already read it about eight times, and I’m rereading it now. Have you ever read it?”

Harry smiled and shyly ducked his head down to keep Louis from thinking he was strange. Besides Liam and Niall, Louis was the only other person that hadn’t spat in his face with teasing words. For that he was grateful.

“No, I haven’t….”

“Styles! Tomlinson!” Father Simon came back into the room and was now glaring at them. “Cut the talking and get to work.”

“Oui, mon pere.”

“Oui, excuse-moi.”

They both followed the Father’s instructions, opening their math books to the right chapter. After a while, when Father Simon wasn’t looking, Louis pulled out his book, and carefully unfolded it into the math book, so that it was inconspicuous and hidden.

Harry laughed from beside him, but covered his mouth when the Father had thrown a death glare their way. Louis was suddenly feeling much less nervous.

X

_“It’s nine a.m. on the 234th day. There aren't that many names this morning, which is a very good thing.”_

_It was dark, small, and cramped. That was all Louis knew. There were four walls that surrounded him, and he could feel each one of them pressed into a side of his body. He was in a box of some sort, but he didn’t understand why._

_It was shaking._

_It wouldn’t stop shaking._

_He was choking out sobs, trying to find a way out as his fingernails dug deep into the material that encased him._

_There was a scream that came from behind him. He knew by the high pitch that it was Lottie._

_Lottie. She was out there all alone, like he was. Her bloody screams suffocated his mind, and Louis was gasping for air._

_The intense heat was back, and he felt the stinging effects hit him like a fireball as the door to the box he was trapped in was ripped off._

_It wasn’t just one scream anymore, it was thousands. Millions. And there were gunshots. So, so many gunshots. They pierced through the air as bullets went buzzing by his head._

_He couldn’t see. It was pure white. The only thought that crossed his mind was that he had to find Lottie._

_Another wiring bullet sped passed him, nearly missing his shoulder. He didn’t care though, he only wanted to find his sister and end her suffering._

_“Lottie! Lottie!” Louis cried out, praying for a miracle that his baby sister was okay and that she heard him calling for her._

_“Louis! Please help me! I need you! Please!”_

_It was then that the picture came into view. There she was, held in the arms of a stranger, a shotgun aimed at her head._

_“Louis, please!” her broken sob echoed through Louis’ ears._

_The trigger fired before he could make a move, and his baby sister crumpled to the ground below._

_The man that shot her had disappeared, and Louis was at her side in an instant._

_“Lottie… Lottie! Please look at me! Open your eyes… Charlotte, no! No! Lottie! Please come back to me!”_

_“Louis, Louis!” There was a large hand on his shoulder, shaking him fiercely. He shouted at it, not wanting to be pried from his dead little sister. “Louis.. wake up!”_

The dream faded to white, and Louis shot up haphazardly, feeling the same steady hand on his shoulder as he did in his dream.

He was trying his best not to cry as he looked up and saw Harry carefully holding him still. His breathing was eradicated, and he felt like he was going to throw up.

“Jesus Louis, calm down, it was only a dream,” he whispered.

But Louis couldn't calm down. The nightmare had felt so real. So much more real than any of the other ones he’d had. And it was by far the worst. He actually saw… He actually saw the gore and blood, and his sister. His poor, poor, Lottie. He knew it was only a dream, but his sister was dead in his arms. He felt that.

He barely registered the fact that Harry was whispering comforting things to his ear, and when he did, he all but pushed Harry away from him.

Harry was confused for a second, before trying to calm Louis down again, “Louis, it’s okay, you were just dreaming.”

Louis closed his eyes, and soon his breathing was steady again. His hands were sweating something fierce, and he tangled them into his bed sheets to try to dry them. He scanned the room like he did before, checking to make sure no one had heard him. His eyes found their way back to Harry who was snuggled at the end of Louis bed, watching him nervously.

“Did anyone else… I mean, were you the only one that heard that?”

Harry bobbed his head yes, his lips forming a tight line.

“Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

Louis just shook his head in response.

“Do those happen often?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

“Harry?”

“Yes?”

“Tell anyone, and I’ll kill you.”

X

It was just after his English Lit. class the next day that Father Paul had asked to see him.

He was extremely worn out, not being able to catch a lick of sleep after his nightmare. He was so frightened that if by chance he did close his eyes again, he would find himself standing above his sister's bloodied body, or something far worse. He had shooed Harry off to bed quickly, and pretended that he was okay.

Louis was glad for the opportunity to escape the general vicinity that was Harry Styles. Ever since he found him almost crying the night before, he didn’t want to have to face him. He couldn’t take a pity look, and he definitely didn’t want Harry to feel sorry for him. Louis made sure that Harry knew not tell anyone else about it, which seemed to be working so far. No one had come up to him and talked about it, or even spoke to him about anything dream related. Harry was also good at keeping his mouth shut, which Louis liked.

But, the fact the was called in specifically by the Father the day after he had a nightmare worried him. If it had anything to do with what went on the night before, he was going to kill Harry. They weren’t friends, and he had no business telling Father Paul above anyone else about that was happening to him.

He stepped into the frigid office, sitting himself down in the chair on the other side of the Fathers oval, mahogany desk. Father Paul wasn’t there yet, so Louis took the chance to have a look around. He’d never been inside for this long before, the only other times for when he got into trouble.

There wasn’t very much to it. There were many pictures that cluttered the walls, and Louis could see an offering plate on the desk. There was also of old, worn out bible, which he recognized as Father Paul’s from service.

“Good morning, Louis,” Father Paul moved behind him, breaking his eye contact with the bible. “Sorry to ask to see you so early this morning, but I was hoping that we could have a little chat.”

Louis swallowed loudly, praying to God that the Father wasn’t about to bring up what he thought he was.

"Have I done something wrong, mon pere?"

"I don't know Louis, have you?” he spoke, and tiny smile playing on his lips. “I only joke. What I wanted to ask you about was the new boys, Liam, Luke and Harry. Harry Especially.”

Louis breathed a sigh of relief, internally rejoicing that it wasn’t about his nightmares, “What about them, if I may ask?”

Father Paul held Louis’ gaze a moment before speaking, “How are they doing here? They are new, so they have it a lot harder than anyone else.”

Louis chuckled.

“Remember when you were new?”

Oh did he remember. Being new was not fun,especially in a place away from your family, where everyone had already knew each other. It was survival of the fittest, and in the game you either shut up or shut others up.

“Pere, if you don’t mind my asking, what does this have to do with me? Why don’t you just ask them?”

“Louis,” he sighed deeply, pushing his black sleeves up to his elbows. “You might find this hard to believe, but the students here look up to you. I know, I know, let it sink in. But, you are a leader Louis, and people follow you for some reason. If you say you refuse to eat carrots, the other boys will too. If you decide to ignore the boys, your friends will too.”

“What about young Harry? How is he doing?”

Louis really didn’t know what to say about Harry. He still didn’t know him well enough to get a good judge on him. He knew some of the other boys were picking on him, but it was harmless fun, what all boys did at their age.

“He seems fine. He does really good in Lit. and Maths, from what I can tell.”

“Good, good,” the Father backed away from his desk. "Keep an eye out for him, will you? Just make sure he's okay sometimes."

“Is he sick?” Louis inquired. It would make sense, with Harry’s pale face, and had his cheeks seemed to flush regularly.

“No, no. Nothing like that. He’s just, younger than the rest, and he might need a little push sometimes. Just, promise me you’ll look out for him Louis?”

Louis was a little struck back by what Father Paul was asking him, but because he asked him to, Louis would do it.  

“I promise.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I know in real life Louis is the piano player, but for the story I needed it to be Harry. See you soon and don't forget to let me know what you thought.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how often I'll be posting, but I promise I'm going to get it done.


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